Work
by Dramagirlet15
Summary: Chris realizes that he cannot dwell on the memories of his past. Even of they are sometimes all that he can think about. Set throughout season six.
1. Memory

Author's Note: this story is all about Chris's and his emotions and thoughts. It is set directly after "oh my goddess" as he is wandering around downstairs. This story is from Chris's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim to own any of the character, places, or events from Charmed, wish I did though

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I had seen their faces. I had seen my aunts' faces: suspicious, as was the entire family's nature, frustrated, but at the same time trusting, mostly because they didn't have much of a choice. I had seen the face of my father, absent so much during my childhood. It was full of distrust towards me and worry for the sisters, for his wife, for his son. I had also seen the look he had on his face as he looked upon him, not full-out hate, but with doubt and suspicion. Really, I wasn't all that surprised, after all this was Leo, the man might as well have been preprogrammed to not like or trust me. Nothing I can do about that.

And I had also seen my mothers face, full of the same inner beauty, love and protectiveness that I remembered her having eight years ago. I would have to be careful around her, because as much as I might want to delude myself of the reality, I also knew that this was not his mother, this was Piper, **_Piper_**, not Mom. This was not the same person that used to tuck me in at night, or sing me to sleep, nor was she the person that taught me how to cook when I got bored of just watching TV and Wyatt was Up There. Piper was not the person that could read me like an open book. Piper was not Mom. Not yet. He couldn't afford to get them mixed up.

And then there was Wyatt. Sweet, innocent, powerful, going to grow up to be the source of all evil Wyatt. God it was weird seeing him look so…so… good. To see him as a toddler crying for his bottle or fussing to be held and not as the evil man that terrorizes and kills every being he sees as a threat. That sort of thing can seriously mess with a person's mind. To see him so young and innocent, it just strengthens my resolve to try my damn hardest to keep him like that.

They're all asleep right now; I can sense them, just upstairs. Blissfully ignorant of the hell the future becomes, as well as the true reason that it becomes that way. Leo is probably being tested by the Valkyries right now for his strength, hopefully he will be out of my hair for a while. And as much as I want to believe that sending him there is strictly to prepare him for future events, I have to admit that it gives me a bit of pleasure thinking about him there. If that makes me a bad son, well, who the hell cares, he was a bad father.

And as bad as it is, standing here in my childhood home, with no threats of probes, no tours, no constant attentiveness to make sure that nobody that I don't want to catches me, it makes me feel safe. And that is not something that I need, I need to be strong and alert, just like I was back home. I need to be the strong one, the invincible one, the commander, just like the people in the resistance see me as. I need to keep the protector and leader mentality that I had acquired then.

But it's hard, because these walls seem to know that I recognize and know them and it makes me wonder how long it will take before the sisters realize that too. Before Mom, no, Piper realizes that. I know that it will be hard to hide it from them. I know that even the smallest slip up can make them suspicious of me, and I really don't want to lie to them anymore than I already am going to.

As I move around the house memories of happy and not so happy times plague me. Over there is where I broke that lamp while playing ball in the house. That chair is where I held my younger cousin Mel for the first time after she was brought home from the hospital. I always used to do my homework at that table right after school. That alcove is where I got shot by my first darklighter arrow, Aunt Paige had to go get Sam to heal it because Leo wouldn't answer the calls. Mom died on that stair with three energy balls to the back. I'm starting to think that maybe taking a walk through the house for old times sake wasn't such a great idea. I can't have those kind of thoughts running through my head. All that they will do is make me an emotional wreck. And I can't have that happen. If that happens then the sisters will take pity on me, and I need to stay just their whitelighter, pure business. I need them to keep me in their minds as their protector, and I need to keep them separated from my family in my mind. I have to focus on my mission, because if I succeed, then maybe none of this will happen. I need to focus. I need to shut myself off from emotion and from distraction.

I need to leave this house. I've got work to do.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Please, please review, it makes me very happy.


	2. Deceit

**Author's Note: Originally this was going to be a one-shot, but then I decided to do a follow-up. I'm planning on possible additional chapters after this too, so I might be updating. I don't know how often once school starts, but still. Oh, and this is from Chris' point of view. I don't know why this is out at M, I rated it T.**

**Disclaimer: I forgot this last chapter, which is weird seeing as how I've read them enough times, some pretty creative ones too. And now without further ad: I do not own, nor do I claim any of the characters or places on Charmed. There, I did it!**

**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

"I'll ask you again," I practically growled at the demon pinned up against the cave wall, "who organized the attack on the Charmed One's baby?"

Earlier that day the girls or more specifically, Wyatt had been attacked by a group of varying demons. They had shimmered in strategically, one group surrounding the sisters, while another formed a circle around Wyatt, all trying to break through his forcefield. They had called me, why I don't know seeing as how they don't know about me being a half-witch yet, so I would have been totally useless. But they had called for me none the less, and having just finished up a…meeting…with one of my informants I came. Throughout the entire thing I just called out warnings though, at least that's what they think. Really I had done a couple of vanquishes when nobody was looking. But hey, what they don't know won't hurt them, right.

Well, afterwards of course they were furious. All except piper at least. Man, I don't know what kind of spell she's under, but it's creeping me out. Not that I'm complaining or anything, really it helps me, she's less suspicious, doesn't pay attention to the little things. As long as I'm alert enough for the both of us then it doesn't really matter. But it's still weird.

So after Phoebe and Paige ranted a little about the demons they decided to turn on me. Yelling and complaining about how it isn't like I don't make them go after enough demons already, but now they're coming after them. Really, sometimes they can be a little over dramatic. But then they start ordering me to go check with the elders, so I orb off.

So here I am, in the underworld (like I would actually check with the elders when this is so much faster) with an excuse for a demon pinned up against the wall. I've been down here for the last half an hour and I think I might have finally found one of the demons that shimmered off before we could vanquish him.

"I…I…d-don't know wh-what your t-t-talking about, Chris."

It always surprises me when they know my name, but then again, I have made myself known these past few months. But that is so not the point.

"Oh cut the crap, I know that you know, so just tell me what I want and maybe you won't die."

Yeah right, like I would actually let any demon go free after I have them. All I need is the information and he's dead. Of course, he doesn't know that or else he wouldn't have said this next piece of information.

"His…his n-name is M-Mordal, he's an up-upper class demon with en-energy balls."

"Do…you…know," I bit out slowly, as if I was talking to a little kid, which I might as well have been, " why…he wanted…the baby?"

"He just th-thought the kid would m-make him pow-powerful and he could become the s-s-source, he said that all of-of those that h-h-helped would be re-rewarded."

Honestly, you would think that these demons could get a little more creative about these big plots, they are all the same: get the boy, become the source. It's enough to give anyone a headache.

I released him. "Thank- you," I say casually as I spot a small fire in the corner.

Then, just as I was using my powers to set him on fire and effectively vanquish him, another demon shimmers in. By the time he was vanquished I had about thirty of the same breed of demon surrounding me. The god-damned bastard had a family! A family with blades in their wrists, I note as I see them all start to arm themselves with weapons that must have been inside of them.

"Shit," I mumble as they all start to advance, and really shit about sums this whole situation up. I mean, I could orb away, but I have never been known to runaway from a fight. A trait my cousin Mel once said would be my end.

I remember one time when I was around sixteen, I had just finished vanquishing a demon that Wyatt had had trailing my cousins for a while when I noticed that I had a pretty big gash in my thigh. Just then I had looked up and noticed that there were voices nearby. And not the kind of voices that meant I could get some help for my leg, but some menacing voices that signaled that I should probably get out of there. And I had had enough time to orb away undetected, too. But did I, no. Instead, I took I fighter stance and waited for them thinking that if I focused hard enough I could take them. Turns out that there were five demons, I managed to take out two of them by impaling them with pieces of debris form the already ruined city. But after that I realized just how tired I was and how much blood I had already lost. I managed to get out of there, but not before adding to my injuries. Mel, thirteen at the time, had been pissed!

What the hell am I doing? I'm pretty much screwed and I'm reminiscing? I thought I had promised myself months ago that I would shut all of that out, for this exact reason. Oh well, no time to yell at myself now.

As I looked the group of demons over I decided that I was too fed up to be creative, so instead I just created a ring around myself from the earlier fire, killing those foolish enough to get near it. And for the others I started to use my powers to shoot the fire at them.

After vanquishing the fifth with the fire I started to get a little cocky, not something I should ever do, when one of those wrist blades that I thought were **_attached _**to their wrists came whizzing right past my head. I was not expecting that!

So, I once again learned the lesson that I don't have to participate in every fight I come across, that I can and sometimes should just leave. I am now dodging blades, trying to send them back at their owners and trying to still shoot fire at others.

Suddenly I feel a searing pain in my shoulder, chancing a glance I find that I missed deflecting one of the blades. Isn't that just wonderful? Luckily there's only a few more left to vanquish, which I finish with in a matter of seconds.

Once everything is done with I decide to just orb back to the room in P3 I've been staying in, no use waiting for more demons down here.

----------------------------------------------------------

As soon as I rematerialize in the backroom I shut the door in order to do an evaluation of myself. Besides the gaping shoulder wound which still has the blade stuck in it, a rather big blade if I do say so myself. I have quite a few cuts all over my body from the flying knife show I got to witness, not to mention a few burns on my leg from stepping into the fire while dodging the aforementioned knifes.

All in all, it could have been worse.

"**CHRIS!" **

That would be Phoebe screaming my name at the top of her lungs. I have been gone about an hour, I guess I should get back to them.

So I quickly change my pants, take out the blade from my should and bandage it up so that the sisters won't see it (I really don't need those kind of questions) and change my shirt before orbing up to the attic to find out some information about this Mordal fellow.

----------------------------------------------------------

"I just finished talking to the elders, they believe that it's an upper level demon named Mordal who organized the attack. His only known power is energy balls. Here's a vanquishing spell right out of the book. Seeing as we don't have any blood, I would use a summoning spell."

I say all of this after rematerializing in the observatory after supposedly conferring with the elders. All three sisters are there along with Wyatt, who is playing on the floor with his trucks. They look at me as I say this, but it takes them a while to really absorb everything.

Paige is the first to recover, "Well, alright then. Let's go kick some demon ass."

As the sisters head upstairs, Piper after putting Wyatt in his playpen, I watch them knowing they have it all under control.

As for me, I know a couple of whitelighters that owe me a favor for saving them from darklighters, and I think its time to track one of them down.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Please review, it only take 42 seconds, I timed it!**


	3. Tears

Authors Note: Okay people, here's the next installment. Once again it is in Chris's POV. This is set shortly before "Valhalley of the Dolls" so Leo isn't back yet and Piper is still a bit loopy, not that it really matters.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or events from Charmed, hell, I'm still trying to get the dvds.

Tears.

All that they do is show weakness. They make you vulnerable. They show that you are not the rock that you want people to perceive you as. They are useless. But more importantly, they are dangerous. And after enough time you learn to live without them, because they are unnecessary.

This is what I tell myself whenever I have gotten close to letting emotion overwhelm me since I was fourteen. Since the first time that I learned how useless they were. When I learned that they don't fix anything. That was when I learned that all that those little drops do is make people pity you. That they only show you as weak and overly emotional. At fourteen I learned that no matter how many tears I would shed, I couldn't bring back the dead.

At fourteen I lost my Mom. At fourteen I learned to push away grief, ignore pain, and stop tears.

Some people may call this unhealthy, but what else can I do? It certainly is a useful skill now that I am in the past. Now that every time I look at one of the faces of my aunts or mother I just want to let down all of my barriers and cry in their arms like I used to when I was young. But then I remind myself that not only are they not the family that I knew growing up, but that I don't cry, that I can't cry.

This is why even now, as I stand just outside Wyatt's nursery, listening to piper sing a lullaby, which I can remember from when I was little; my face is a carefully guarded mask. Nobody ever picks up on the fact that I never show real emotion, they probably think that I don't have any. And for that fact I am oddly grateful.

"Chris, what are you doing here?"

I jump, startled to hear phoebe's voice right at my shoulder. Damn, I can't let my senses down like that. I need to be on constant alert!

"I got a lead on that firestarting demon that you guys fought yesterday, thought maybe you could vanquish it before lunch."

She just rolls her eyes at me, giving me a look that clearly says 'another demon, why won't you let us ever have a rest'. Really, I could have just taken care of it myself, but I had to make them believe at the same time that the recent decrease in demons is their doing. I believe that if they vanquish enough demons, then they will forget which demons they have and have not vanquished. Really, it's just a way to cover my ass.

"Something's bothering you, I can feel it." She said, her gaze raking over me curiously. Damn, lately I had been thinking that she might be starting to get her empathic abilities early, this just confirmed my suspicions.

"No, nothings wrong, you feeling okay Phoebe." I say this even as I mentally make sure that my mask is still in place and try to shut myself off from emotion, something that is pretty easy for me after years of practice.

"Yeah, I guess I'm just in a weird mood lately, this has been happening a lot actually."

"Just try and keep all of therapist feelings shit at the office, ok?"

"Yeah, whatever. But I still say that something is bothering you."

I just roll my eyes, biting back a sarcastic comment that I can just feel forming in my mouth, ever since I was young it has been my kind of safety blanket. Meanwhile phoebe's looking in the nursery with that look on her face that clearly says 'isn't he the most adorable angel you've ever seen?'. 'Hm, give it a few years' I want to say, but wisely refrain from doing so.

That same emotional feeling washes over me unbidden. Damn, what is wrong with me today? I am stronger than this. I never cry. Even as my younger cousins, my responsibility, died one by one, I never cried.

And there I go, if ever there were a day where a tear would leak out of my eye it would be today. Between watching my mom and aunts alive and replaying every single family member's death in my head, I was fast becoming an emotional wreck. Not that any of them would notice that, I always make sure of that.

"You know what, I can just come back later." And with that I orb out without even letting her respond.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as I reform, I instantly relax, and…doing something I haven't done in what feels like forever, I let my mask slip and my barriers down.

This makes me feel naked and free all at the same time, and I don't know which one is more predominant.

Wordlessly I stare from my perch atop the Golden Gate Bridge down at the city, at all of the people, unaware, ignorant, and not afraid to cry. For just a moment I pretend that I am one of them. I close my eyes and I am just a normal kid going off to his first job since getting out of college, after all that would be the stage in my life I would be at right now, right? My cell phone holds messages of encouragement from my family, all saying that I'm going to do fine. None of them are dead. I'm freaking out about being late on my first day, tears of frustration and anxiety close to falling.

But then I open my eyes and I am back in reality. The reality where I am the only one in my family left. The reality where I barely finished middle school before the whole world went to hell, let alone college. The reality that I can't worry about my own fears and frustrations because I have the weight of the world on my shoulders. It's the reality that to most people seems way too surreal to accept, and that they would never even believe. And I don't begrudge them that, no, if anything I envy them; I envy their innocence.

I can barely remember having the sort of innocence that the majority of people here have. It feels like it has been an eternity since I was able to climb into bed with my mother and tell her all about my nightmare. Just to have her kiss my forehead and tell me that it wasn't real and that she would never let anything happen to me, until I would calm down enough to relax into her arms, only to be woken up by Wyatt entering the room telling mom that he had woken up to find me gone. Mom would then make room for Wyatt also so that he could climb into the bed also.

No, that innocence was taken away from me, and not by simply growing up, but by death and destruction and mind games. It was taken away from me as I watched my little cousins die one by one in my arms, unable to stop the cycle, unable to battle the angel of death for them, as I so wanted to. It was taken away every time I ran away with a new injury from my older brother, the same person that was supposed to be my protector.

And now, as I relive all of these painful memories and emotions, without worrying about people seeing me and drawing conclusions or giving me knowing looks, I shed my first tear in eight years.

It feels almost taboo as it slips down my cheek. But in that one tear is so much pain and sadness that it almost feels cleansing. But just as quickly as it came, it's gone, falling into the water and mixing with so many before it.

Many people would say that it's not near enough when you have gone through all that I have. But for me, it's enough.

I need to get back to the sisters. I have work to do.

I wish that it would rain 

_So that I could go outside_

_And drown all of my sorrows away_

_Make them seem insignificant_

_To the dark sky above_

_I wish that it would rain_

_Purify my thoughts_

_Cleanse my mind_

_I wish that it would rain_

_Hide my tears_

_In heavens own sorrows_

_Allow them to mingle _

_And be lost like so many others before it_

_I wish that it would rain_

_Shield me from reality _

_In a moment of purity_

_Of innocence_

_Of relief_

_I wish that it would rain_

_So that I could forget about my pain_

_And watch heavens display._

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Review please! I know you can.


	4. Age

Authors Note: This is set a couple of days before Valhalley of the Dolls. It is, like the others, in Chris's point of view. Sorry that it took so to update, I had this half written out forever, but I kept on having to much homework to just sit down for a while and finish it. So here it is.

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim to own any of the following characters or places.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Age.

I've always thought that age was an interesting term. At first glance people think that it means how long you've been alive, which then determines your maturity. For example: if you're thirteen people expect you to be a whiny, bratty, and ignorant teenager. Yet I have seen many thirteen year olds, and even younger, who if you were to only look into their eyes, you would see a fifty year old who has witnessed even more than a person that age should have seen. But you only see that when they are awake, when their sleeping they can appear to be so calm…so young and innocent.

Sometimes I wonder if that is what I look like when I sleep. I doubt it, I'm probably tense with an emotional mask while I'm asleep, at least that's what I hope, I wouldn't want anyone to see me looking vulnerable.

In the future you know not to judge somebody's strength, wisdom, and authority based on their age, but in the past its different. If the sisters were to think that I was actually twenty-two, then wham, there goes their respect for me, no matter how little it is. This is why I find it a blessing that they believe me to be a full whitelighter, and therefore have no idea what my true age could be. And there is less reason for them to pity me whenever I say a hint about how bad the future is, not if they believe that a fifty year who has already died once is the one who had to put up with it. It's freeing in way.

Not that I was underestimated in the resistance. No, you don't really doubt your leader, not usually the way it works. People use to say that I radiated power and confidence and that it would rub off on them. I used to ponder how they could see that, when in reality I was as scared as them, just better at hiding it.

In the future, people let go of their pride, the kind that comes with age. I can still remember so many people that were older than me, thanking me as if I was a god for setting up the resistance. For allowing them shelter there.

Those were the people that would keep me up at night thinking about how much the world has changed. How an old man can feel it his privilege to bow down to a child. It never made any sense to me, as I was always told to respect my elders: human, ghost, and angel.

It wasn't until Mel pointed it out to me that I realized that they didn't see a child, they saw a mature, responsible, and indestructible man. That thought always made me a bit melancholy, and I have no idea why. I mean, isn't that the persona that I had always wanted people to see. I suppose that in a way I wanted to shed that image of being indestructible, so that instead of always being the one holding and comforting a child I would be that child. But by the time I turned sixteen I outgrew that, it wasn't that I didn't want it anymore, it just wasn't realistic.

I've always liked to stay based in reality; it's better than being in denial I would tell my younger cousins after a loss. And they trusted me; they always did, up until their last breath. I remember how after Patty was hit in the stomach with an athame she looked up at me with nothing but total confidence and trust and pleaded with me to "take the pain away. Please Chris, just take it away. It hurts so much, please Chris, you can take it away, can't you?" I tried and tried to take it away, to heal it, and usually if I concentrated hard enough on love I could heal somebody. But the athame was cursed and it wouldn't heal.

It broke my heart o not be able to help her, and even more to have to watch her die, to watch this nine year old child die. For that was what she was in my eyes, a child, the child that I had been raising for the past four years, ever since all of the adults had died.

I blame myself for her death, for her cousins' and sisters' deaths, for whoever died because of my brother; I blame myself for all of them. And that only adds to my age. I was once told that I would die from old age before I turned twenty. I suppose that it is a miracle that I'm still alive.

Funny how these sort of ponderings can happen at the oddest of times. I had just gone demon hunting and my shirt and pants are covered in blood, some mine, but mostly the demons. And now I'm sure that the sisters will be calling my name any minute. I guess I should go and change my clothes.

Ten minutes later and still no call; maybe this is my lucky day. I should probably take advantage of this and take a nap, after all I haven't really slept in three days.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Chris!"

There it is. Good thing I've trained myself to be alert in a moment's notice. I just wish that I had been able to sleep a little more than the forty-five minutes I had just snuck into my day

"Yes?" I say irritably once I orb to the manor. It really was a nice nap: no dreams, no wondering, no drifting in and out of conscienceness. I should probably pay attention to what they're saying, huh?

"… now I'm sure that you have a MILLION things to do," why does Aunt Paige always have to act so sarcastic…wait…I think I just realized where I got it from, "but with Piper acting the way she is we should probably go after this demon by ourselves," oh yeah, that creepy little spike demon, I almost forgot, "so we need you to help Piper set up for that little dinner party she seems set on giving." This just took an unwelcome turn.

"Wait, what? No you see I'm your whitelighter, not your slave."

"Why are you being such a baby about this, its not like you have anything better to do." That would be Phoebe, and yes I have many things I would rather be doing, but I don't think that they would accept demon hunting or napping as good enough reasons. And wait, did she just call me a baby? It's been a while since I've been called that, actually, I can't even remember the last time.

"It's not that I have things to do, but I…I…I just…just… you see…"

"Exactly, so have fun, and we'll be back soon." And with that they orbed off. I would curse them if I thought that it would do any good.

I don't think cursing would have been such a good idea anyway, seeing as piper is coming down the stairs right now, great, time to deal with a cuckoo Piper. Just watch my excitement.

"Oh good, you're here. Paige and Phoebe said that you would be coming by to help."

"Oh they did, did they?" I mutter under my breath. Luckily she didn't seem to hear, or she just ignored it, I could never tell.

"Now how about you…" she suddenly stopped talking as Wyatt started to demonstrate his lung capacity.

"I'll take care of it." I hear myself say.

"Are you sure that you can…" she starts to say, but I cut her off.

"Come on, its not like I've never taken care of a baby before." Just for the record, that was not meant to be said out loud. And by her expression, it seems that she is just as surprised that I said it as I am.

I take her silence as an opportunity to rush up the stairs.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hadn't exactly been lying. Ever since I was fourteen I had taken care of all of the my younger cousins, and Prue had only been a baby at the time. She had died a little less than a year ago, two weeks before her ninth birthday. Her death is still fresh in my mind. And so are her eyes, her pleading eyes. But what truly sticks in my mind is the fact that she wasn't pleading for me to heal her and take away the pain, but for release. She wanted to die so that she wouldn't have to go on in this life where she had so few living loved ones. She wanted to escape the world she was practically born into. The world that she was forced to be raised in, and I don't blame her. She didn't fight death, so it only took her a few minutes die.

I reached the nursery door and pushed it open to reveal a red-faced Wyatt. When he saw me he seemed to be confused as to why I was here instead of his mother.

"Hey there little guy. Mind telling me why you're screaming like a banshee. Trust me being a banshee is not fun. Here we go," I say with an exaggerated grunt as I pick him up out of his crib. I look at him and I forget that he was ever a tyrant, a monster, or a killer. All that I can see at that moment is an upset little boy. I suppose I've always had a soft spot for children, there wasn't one child at the resistance who I didn't know by name. Their parents use to say that me knowing them and showing an interest in their lives made their kids feel safer, and that always made me a little happier.

"Hush little baby, don't you cry, no demons are gonna get you tonight," I began to subconsciencely sing the same song that always used to calm my cousins down, they ended up liking it so much that they would demand that I sing it to them every night, "no warlocks are gonna take you away, you are safe for another day. And if a monster comes in the night, I'll be sure to put up a fight. They'll be gone in a blink of an eye, if they come after you they might as well lie down and die..."

Suddenly I sensed somebody watching and whipped around to see piper standing in the doorway dumbfounded.

"How did you just come up with that off the top of your head?"

"I didn't." I don't bother to elaborate.

"Then how?" By this point she should already know my answer.

"Future consequences." I look down to see that Wyatt has fallen back asleep. I smile and check his diaper. It's dry.

As I lie him back down I can sense that Piper hasn't moved from her spot. So instead I turn around.

"He probably just had a bad dream, he'll be okay now."

"How do you know?" she asks, not suspiciously, but curiously.

"Because for some reason no child has ever had a bad dream after listening to me sing that lullaby."

With that I walk past her down the stairs to help set up for the party. I shouldn't have told her as much as I did, after all, I have work to do.

_Age is just a number_

_So don't think about it too much_

_Age is just a concept_

_It only says ones years and such_

_So what can you do_

_When your life is falling apart_

_It feels like the end_

_When It's really the start_

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Please review, review, review! I'm taking suggestions as to what the next chapter should be about, so just press that little button down there.


	5. Pain

**Author's note: I know its been forever, but I've been so busy. I know, I know- no excuse. But you see how into writing you are after training for a marathon and then having to do a million hours of homework. Enough self pity? Yeah…I think so too. Anyways, this takes place not too long after Valhalley of the dolls, but before forget me…not. Lets just say that Leo had to go up there for a few weeks.**

**Disclaimer: boo-hoo; I own charmed season six dvd's and that is all. **

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Pain-

It's not as if I've never physically felt it before. Kind of hard not to get at least one serious injury every week in the world that I grew up in. Even before the world went to hell there was always the constant danger of a demon attack. Even if healing was much easier and more commonplace doesn't mean that it hurt any less. But I suppose that there were some major differences:

If I was injured pre-hell, then mom could usually force Leo to heal me straight away. Or Wyatt would heal me, whether it was for pretences or out of actual concern for my well being I never could figure out.

If I was injured post-hell, then who really knew how long it would be before I could get healed. Full whitelighters were (are, are going to be) few and far between, and they are always tired. In the past you would never know that a whitelighter could heal so much that it became hard for them to do so without a rest, but everything was turned upside down when I turned fourteen, so it shouldn't have really surprised anyone. And besides, if I was hurt, I would much rather somebody else be healed first, another thing that Mel said was an incredibly stupid, noble thing to do. I told her to stop quoting Harry Potter.

When I was injured pre-hell it would usually be by the hand of some scum-of-the-earth demon that wanted to either kill all Halliwells, or steal their powers. They would, inevitably, be vanquished.

When I was injured post-hell it would be from an assassin, a demon working on the orders of someone higher in the ranks than them, or my favorite- my dear, dear older brother himself. The assassin I would, inevitably, fall in love with. The demon would sometimes go back to the protection that Lord Wyatt provided and would then continue its existence. And my brother always came out on top.

So obviously being thrown around the room and crashing into furniture by the hand of my "father" didn't hurt as much as some might think that it should.

I mean, in some deep, deep part of myself that I haven't explored in years it hurt a little. Not physical this time, emotional. I know, I'm skipping around a lot. I suppose it doesn't matter how much you hate your father, if he throws you into a cabinet, there's gonna be a little bit of regret that it is even happening.

But I'm rambling, at the moment I am pondering pain simply because I am experiencing quite a lot of it.

There was talk of a threat from a very secretive group of brute demons. I thought that I could handle it, no problem. What I did not count on was the numbers. I didn't even know that forty brute demons existed. I managed to vanquish about 20-30, but those things are strong!

So let's go through this wonderful checklist:

Broken arm-check

Dislocated shoulder (same arm)-check

Crudely and hastily bandaged thigh-check

Three long and deep gashes going down back(I don't even want to think what it is they raked across my skin)-check

Bleeding head wound from where it clipped the edge of a cave wall-check

"Chris…Chris…Chris! God, its as if you aren't even listening to a word that I'm saying." Did I mention that I am also talking with Paige? Her timing of course was impeccable. She called about 40 seconds after I got back to the backroom of P3. I had to work really quick to put on a new pair of clothes (I'm starting to run out of ones that don't have huge blood stains on them).

"Yeah, yeah…demon bad, Leo mad. I think I got the gist."

"Chris, take this a little more seriously, the man is on a crusade to pin Valhallah on you. And that illusionist demon has us all on edge."

"Then how do you know that Leo being mad isn't just an illusion?" At this point I'm getting that look that says "keep thinking that, tell me how it works out". I used to see that look all of the time before the event.

"I know, I know, watch out for Leo, as for the Illisionist demon…"

"Go and check with the elders!" she says it with such exasperation that I'm off before she's even finished with the sentence.

Usually I would never have ever actually orbed off to the elders, preferring to use the much more informative demonic contacts that I have. But with Leo back I don't think that it would do well for me to raise any more suspicion, I'm sure that he's listening in to every conversation that the girls have with me. Like that show big brother, only creepier.

When I reappear in the heavens it is too a much too serene atmosphere. This place had always creeped me out, probably because whenever I thought about it my mind usually thought of the eery silence that accompanied the complete and total destruction of "up there" that I orbed to in the future when I sensed that something was wrong. I was fifteen.

_"What did I tell you Chris? Nothing is beyond my power, and nobody has enough to stop me. So give up your little childhood notions of good and evil. Hone your power with me Chris!"_

My brother's voice still resonates within my mind when I think about it. He truly scared me that day when he appeared from behind a pillar with a satisfied expression on his face. What did it matter that several of the elders had escaped, he had made his point. Like he said, nothing was beyond his power.

"What are you doing here Chris?" the suspicion in that voice is almost tangible. There's no doubt in my mind who I had just had to run into.

"I was sent to find out about the illusionist demon."

"Oh really?" _I'm gonna hit him…I'm gonna hit him…_

"Yes really, do think I came up here to somehow ruin your life or kill you or something?"

"You tell me Chris." _I'm gonna hit him…I'm gonna hit him…_

"I only came up her because Paige wanted me to check with the elders about the demon, its 'putting them all on edge'."

"Are you sure that that's the only reason?" _I'm gonna kill him…I'm gonna kill him…_

"You aren't even making any sense Leo, what other reason would I have to come up to the land of fluff and white. Kindly give me the information or I'll just go and ask another elder." I am so not in the mood for this right now. My head is pounding, my arm is throbbing, I think that its going to fall off pretty soon. How no one has noticed that my left arm has been hanging limply by my side the entire time that I talk to them I have yet to figure out, and I think I am going to become an elder murderer pretty soon.

Luckily, it seemed that concern for the sisters finally won out and Leo decided to finally stop with the weird third degree and tell me what I need to know.

"The illusionist demon is like the demon of fear in that it likes to play with his victims, he'll start off by messing with their equilibrium, usually just giving them a lot of vertigo. After that he'll start tapping into their memories and put them into them. He can also warp a persons perception of a person or a thing."

"And for a vanquish…it wasn't in the book." I say to his confused stare.

"A power of three spell should do it, maybe with a potion for a power boost." I already knew this, but I'll let him have his moment.

"Okay, thanks." And with no further ado, I orb.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing that I notice when I reappear is the massive pounding in my head. The second is the utter chaos of the conservatory. It seems that the illusionist demon had struck again. All three sisters were doing ridiculous things in their own little fantasy worlds. Paige is twirling around as if she's on one of those rotating platforms. Piper is waving her arms around as if something is around her head. And Phoebe is squirming and jumping from furniture to furniture. Every once and a while one of them would scream. It is actually a really funny site if it weren't for the seriousness of the situation.

Even through the excruciating pain that I am experiencing (I think my back is getting infected, not surprising) I know that the demon is going to come after me.

And sure enough the scene in front of me promptly distorts, sort of like a fun house, before we are once more in the conservatory. Only about twelve years into the future, and everything is off. The coloring for one once more reminds me of a carnival and there are splashes of weird liquid everywhere I look. I touch some and then smell the coppery tang. Blood.

I look down at myself, its mine. Suddenly my family appears, not the past family, my future family. My cousins all have looks of curiosity on their faces as they look at the blood that is running in streams down my body. My aunts both look at me with pitying looks, both shaking their heads, and even my father is there. His face is stern and in my head I hear him say _how did you let that happen Chris?!?_

And then my mom is there with a cheery smile on her face, but she makes no move to help me.

Suddenly fourteen year old Wyatt turns into 24 year old Wyatt. And he has that same satisfied expression that I saw on his face so long ago.

_Nothing is beyond my power Chris._

I am suddenly aware of how much my body hurts. As if all of these wounds are real, of course, half of them are. But this fact also reminds me that this isn't real.

I force all of my will power into getting out, of course nothing happens.

"Okay then, a spell." Those looks on my family's faces are really starting to freak me out.

_"This illusion on me_

_I should never have seen_

_Take me back to reality."_

Suddenly everything shifts back to normal and I once again see the sisters fighting whatever it is that the demon has shown them.

I waste no time and try to write a vanquishing spell. Even crumpling it up a little to make it look old.

I then tweak my previous spell to get each of the sisters out of their own little worlds.

"Whoa…what happened? Why are we out?" Phoebe just loves to ask questions.

"Who knows," I answer, "quick read this spell before he changes his mind."

As they chant I quietly chant with them to make up for the lack of power that would come with a potion. Suddenly there is a loud scream and from the corner of the room a demon suddenly appears in a burst of flames.

"Well, I'm glad that's over. What took you so long Chris?" Paige asks.

"Ran into someone "up there" that I had been hoping to avoid."

"Leo?"

"The one and only."

"Oh no…Wyatt!!!" Pipers voice suddenly cuts through me and Paige's small banter and she and phoebe rush up the stairs like there's a fire. I sense for Wyatt- he's fine.

Paige suddenly sets her eyes on me.

"You feeling all right Chris? You don't look so great." _Oh, I'm fine Paige. Half of my body is broken, but don't worry; I've never been better._

"I don't know what you're talking about. Look, I have to go. Good job on that demon though." And once again I orb back to P3.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I suppose that I've looked better. But, pop the shouler back in. Clean and disinfect the back. Repeat the process for the head. Re-bandage my leg, and find some whitelighter to heal my arm and I should be fine. I hope.

All in all I thought that today was pretty productive. Got rid of some brute demons, an illusionist demon, and I brushed up on concealing large amounts of pain.

But god, it did hurt!!!

Oh well…no use dwelling on it. I've got work to do.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Thank-you and please review!!!**


End file.
